


We're going to crash

by elioolivercmbyntrash



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Fluff, Flying, Hurt/Comfort, I love making characters suffer, JUST FLUFF REALLY, LMAO, Motion Sickness, Other, Panic Attacks, Sickfic, Xanax, anxious! timmy, cw vomiting, like me, timmy hates flying, timmy is an anxious mess, wrote this while i was meant to be working
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23787259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elioolivercmbyntrash/pseuds/elioolivercmbyntrash
Summary: Timmy hates flying. Armie jokes that the plane is going to crash every time there is turbulence. One flight Timmy forgets to take xanax and anti motion sickness meds. This is just pure hurt/comfort with a nice dash of fluff.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer, platonic - Relationship
Comments: 1
Kudos: 48





	We're going to crash

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own these two people and this is a complete work of fiction. 
> 
> I'm an addict to hurt/comfort fics, even better if they include physical illness, and fluff.

“We’re going to crash!” Armie said in a sing-song voice, chuckling, as the plane continued to shake and jiggle and Timmy’s stomach continued to do somersaults. Timmy forced a giggle.

Armie loved teasing him whenever turbulence hit. He knew Timmy was a nervous flyer and Timmy knew he did it in jest; he didn’t mean anything by it. Armie had been with Timmy as he had crouched in the corner of departure lounges, hands over his ears, tears streaming down his face as he tried to catch his breath, convinced he was going to die or go mad. Armie had sat on the floor next to him, helping Timmy to regulate his breathing, enveloping him in a hug when the panic attack was over and whispering comforting words to him; “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Timmy knew he should just tell Armie that he does not find it funny when he jokes about them crashing. He knew Armie would not find it weak or stupid and wouldn’t call him a killjoy but Timmy had concluded that he was weak for being too nervous to chat to him about it. _It’s just a fucking joke, Timmy,_ he told himself. _Get a grip_.

The turbulence had been going on for what felt like the whole flight, although it had only been a few minutes. Timmy’s chest was tight and he tried to catch his breath, but it kept getting stuck in the back of his throat. This is it, Timmy thought.

“We’re going to crash!” Armie repeated in Timmy’s ear. Timmy felt bile rise in his throat. He needed to get off the plane, like, _right now._ He’d forgotten to take a Xanax. He’d also stupidly left the anti-motion sickness wristbands he usually wore when he was flying on the coffee table in his apartment. He took a sip of water.

“Timmy? You’ve gone green. Do you feel OK?” Armie asked. Timmy shook his head. “Is the turbulence making you feel sick? Where are your wristbands?”

“At home,” Timmy muttered.

“Do you have any tablets to take?” Armie asked.

Timmy shook his head. “I need to get off,” Timmy said, tears stinging his eyes.

“You can’t just get off the plane, you silly goose,” said Armie. “But we can get your breathing back under control.”

Timmy’s body had other ideas. His stomach lurched, and he found the vomit bag in the back of the seat as he gagged, one hand over his mouth to catch the vomit. Armie grabbed the vomit bag from him and opened it for Timmy.

“It’s alright, buddy. Get it all out.” He placed a hand on Timmy’s back, and rubbed it gently.

Once Timmy was sure he was done, he slumped back in the seat and covered his eyes with his clean hand, trying to fight back the tears. Armie found tissues in his pocket and wiped the vomit from Timmy’s hand.

“Have some water,” Armie said gently. “It’ll get rid of the taste. Hey, Timmy, it’s OK. I’m sorry if I upset you by making the joke. If you’d rather I didn’t joke about us crashing, just let me know.”

“You wouldn’t think I’m pathetic?” Timmy asked, rubbing his eyes with his hoodie sleeve.

“Pathetic? No. Absolutely not. God, Timmy, I’m sorry if I triggered your - “

“You didn’t trigger anything. I forgot to take a Xanax. And motion sickness makes me panic.”

Timmy yawned. The vomiting had forced his body to get his breathing under control. The turbulence had stopped, but he still felt queasy. He took another sip of water.

“Do you still feel sick?” Armie asked.

“A bit,” said Timmy. “But I think I’ll be OK if I take a Xanax now and sleep the rest of the flight.”

It didn’t take long for the Xanax to send Timmy off into sleep. Armie asked an attendant for a blanket and placed it over Timmy. “I won’t ever make that joke again,” he whispered, as he wiped a piece of vomit from Timmy’s chin.


End file.
